


it's over now, isn't it?

by ItsMyBirthdayThough



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Clay | Dream Kills TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), DreamSMP - Freeform, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Minecraft, Pandora's Vault, Scared TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Tommy fucking dies, TommyInnit Nearly Dies (Video Blogging RPF), Tommyinnit needs therapy, Unsympathetic Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot - Freeform, Wilbur Soot Needs Help, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, dream murks tommy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 02:27:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30065259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsMyBirthdayThough/pseuds/ItsMyBirthdayThough
Summary: Dream snaps and kills Tommy while in prison. Mainly cannon compliant, but will be cannon divergent in later chapters when dealing with ghostinnit, ghostbur, and glatt.
Kudos: 20





	it's over now, isn't it?

The orange reflection of molten rock gleamed within Tommy's eyes, plaguing his head with memories of a time he’d very much like to forget. A time where he was stuck by himself, alone, in a time where he wanted anyone, anyone at all, to be by his side. The charred memories of exile would haunt him in his sleep, only escaping his mind when he would wake up in a cold sweat, finally able to realize how far away he was from his former prison. 

But he wasn’t so far away from that portion of his life now. Stuck in an obsidian vault with his one true tormentor. The green man sat in the far corner next to a chest, eagerly watching tommy glare at the lava, waiting for a moment of weakness

It had been nineteen days since Tommy was able to have any connection with the world outside of this hellhole. Nineteen days with dream’s gaze staring into the back of his soul, ready to pounce on any shred of instability. Nineteen days since he had scarred his vocal chords, screaming for Sam to let him out. For Sam to come back. To save him. 

But yet again,   
There was no one but dream to fuel his nightmares. 

\------

As the lava managed to fester splotches of color in his eyes, Tommy began to look away from the bright substance, slowly pulling away from the barrier and scooting towards the nearest wall, focusing his tired eyes on the hardened ground at his feet. 

“What do you say we have a chat Tommy?”

Tommy looked up to see an almost glowing green set of eyes, staring directly into his own grey ones. The last thing he wanted was to have a “chat”. He wanted as far as possible from dream. He just wanted out. He wanted to see sam, and puffy, and tubbo’s bees, and tubbo, and-

“Whatever you want green boy.”

Tommy didn’t want to utter a single word to dream, whether it be something as a simple “good morning”. That’s if he even knew what time it was anymore. The lack of a clock was slowly allowing him to lose his concept of time entirely, trapped in a constant blanket of obsidian

“I don’t like that you called me a liar.”

The younger boy, still crouched against the wall, suddenly snapped. 

“Oh I bet you didn't, you hag. Why dont you fuck off hm? Spend some time for yourself?” 

He had been around dream long enough to know when he wanted to pick a fight with tommy. His days in exile felt, oh to familiar, lately. Every moment with dream felt like a different time, a time where he was alone and isolated. Pushed away from everyone he loved or had wanted to love. But there was still time for him to love the people he never got to. This period would end, and he would be okay. This was not exile. This was a new time, a new start, and there would be a new ending that he would be able to determine. It was going to be okay. 

“Tommy that’s a little hard to do we’re trapped in a cell together” dream spat. “Just say you’re sorry, and I won’t be mad at you anymore.”

Tommy dared to challenge the older man. He didn’t want to think about dream anymore. He didn’t want to think at all. He just wanted it to stop. He was done. This was enough. 

He slowly stood from his crouched position and lifted his gaze to meet dream’s near glowing green eyes. This was it. This was all he had now. Words hurriedly left his mouth, fighting to reach the mind of dream quicker than Tommy was able to think of something to say next.

-“I’m not going to apologize dream, because I genuinely don’t believe you have the revive book. You’ve lied about everything else, why should I trust you! You keep saying schlatt gave you the book, but schlatt is fucking dead! He's dead! I’ve seen his grave. His corpse is there.”

Tommy’s lungs fought for air as he emptied his mind into the void of dream’s head, finally exposing all of his thoughts from the past three weeks of pain to the green clad man. There was nothing else to hide. He was done. He was ready to go. 

The room went silent just as it had risen in volume only a few moments before. Tommy knew it was over as dream slowly walked towards him. Tommy knew what was going to happen. All he could do was get ready for the emotional turmoil that he was about to face. Dream was going to scream at him, tell him how stupid he was for feeling like this, how everything was all wrong. But that scolding never came. 

Something much worse met his ears instead.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
“Then why don’t you join him?”

Tommy wasn’t met with the end of an argument that day. He was instead met with a hard fist to the left side of his face, violently jerking his head to the right, and throwing him off balance. 

“FUCK” Tommy screamed. 

Dream said nothing as his fist found Tommy's nose, causing Tommy to quickly grab his face as a means of stopping the blood that began to spew from the blow. 

Tommy, even after all the wars he had fought, forcing him to grasp at survival, wasn’t able to find any will to fight the god after spending so much time in the vault. He began to put his hands up as he saw dream’s arm wind back up, preparing for another blow. Tommy didn’t have time to comprehend what dream was plotting, as his face was the landing spot for all of Dream's punches. 

Tommy wasn’t able to stand after the fourth hit to his head. His knees ached for the cold of the obsidian, and they quickly found it. But as his knees found the floor, a foot found a place in his chest,   
then his legs,   
And then his neck. 

Any air that Tommy had been trying to savor in order to win the brawl was slowly taken from him as Dream's foot harshly pushed into his windpipe. 

“P-please.” Tommy managed to spit out “please s-stop. I-”

He was interrupted by the sudden movement of a knee on the center of his chest, and cold, unforgiving hands wrapped tightly around his neck. 

Tommy’s eyes widened at the pressure around his neck, noticeably struggling to pry the fingers from his throat one by one. Dream only responded by tightening his grip, allowing a smile to spread across his face as Tommy's breathing grew more hurried and ragged. 

Maybe Tommy wasn’t ready to go. He had thought back to his previous wants, and realized, maybe he wasn’t done here. There was still too much to do, too much that he needed to see or say, too many people to make apologies for. There were too many people that he would never get the chance to make peace with, himself included as his breathing only grew heavier. 

Dream looked into Tommy's eyes as he tightened his grip for what he hoped to be the last time. Grey eyes that once held so much light and longing, were now bloodshot, staring into what was left of dream’s soul. He could feel Tommy's heartbeat slow. He could see his eyes start to unfocus, and he could feel Tommy's hands stop struggling to pry his fingers away, and felt them move to his arms, where Tommy began to rake his nails down dream’s forearms in a desperate attempt of escape. 

“Y-you can’t-“ 

“Shut. The fuck. Up. You never learned when to stop talking, did you?” Dream asked. He could feel Tommy’s nails gather bits of the skin from his arms. As the blood flowed from dreams’s wounds, his chest tightened with excitement. This was it. 

“You can’t- kill me… in..” 

Dream loosened his grip ever so slightly, just enough to let Tommy have a set of last words. “Can’t what Tommy? Can't kill you in this prison? I surely can. And you know I will.” 

“You can't kill m-me in a way that matters.”   
.  
.  
.  
Tommy stopped breathing when Dream tightened his grasp for the final time. Dream stayed in the position for a moment after, a knee on Tommy’s chest and hands wrapped right around his neck, just to make sure Tommy wasn’t playing any tricks on him. 

But there were no more tricks from Tommyinnit. There were no more loud comments, and words laced with sarcasm. No more bright, blue eyes, scanning a field for tubbo or ranboo. No more late nights out exploring or fighting, only to come home and laugh about the hardships he had faced. 

Dream raised himself off of Tommy, stepping on the floor in a certain pattern, careful to not get any blood on his shoes. 

This was it.   
The world didn’t need to be fixed anymore  
It was no longer broken.


End file.
